


Warmth

by Sphinxriddle



Series: Fragments of Voss [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-31 07:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21122672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sphinxriddle/pseuds/Sphinxriddle
Summary: Warrior of Light Danica Voss and her current traveling companions rest a night at an inn, as a terrible snow storm rages outside





	Warmth

I’ve always loved the special warmth inns and taverns have. The kind of gentle, rumbling warmth not unlike a hug from someone you haven't seen in a long time. They’ve changed on their travels, but they’re still someone you know. Familiar, yet the feeling that something new is very much in store. I’m biased, I admit, my mother was an innkeeper after she put down her rapier, and some of my few memories of Gyr Abania are of my parents running the tiny hostel for adventurers and travelers alike and watching with wide eyes at all the interesting people who stop by for a spell. 

So when moments like this appear, among my friends, in the sleepy warmth of a tavern common room, I feel at peace. I believe I’m the only one awake, at least fully. Alphinaud rests his head upon his hands, eyes heavy, fighting to stay awake and keep talking about this and that and about what awaits on the morning. Alisaie has given up that fight, and instead sits on the couch snoring ever so slightly, as her brothers carbuncle attempts again and again to jump upon her lap and rest there with her. Estinien, on the other hand, sits with his back to the cold stone wall, right next to the fire, basking in its warmth like a very large cat with his eyes closed and his hands folded across his lap. 

I smile when I look at him, at them all. Not a grand, consuming smile but a small, barely perceivable smile that twitches at the edge of my lips. I believe he’s slowly falling asleep too. I’m glad. He still looks so tired, so world warn, heavy bags hanging from his eyes and gentle twitches of his eyebrows tell me of long nights spent tormented by his own mind, but he does look better than before.

Alphinaud finally concedes to sleep not long after my eyes fall to Estinien. Yawning and wishing me to rest myself. I tell him I will, a smile on my face the same mischievous sparkle in eye that denotes adventure and chaos alike, and send him on his way. Alisaie follows quickly, now that the aetheric warmth of the carbuncle is away from her hand, weakly waving to the two of us who remain before slumping after her brother and the promise of a warm bed. 

Even as they leave, their own warmth and life remains in the room, like gentle light illuminating Estinien and I. Not dimming after the seconds they’ve left turn to minutes, which turns to an hour with nothing but the sound of heavy snowfall, and the crackling of the fire to keep us company. 

I move from my seat, attempting not stealth but trying not to rouse any suspicion in my fellow Dragoon. A pointless endeavor, really, I’ve pestered him enough that he knows even the slightest movement on my part could foretell any number of pranks and tricks. Sometimes I wonder why he even puts up with me. 

I move his spear and slide down the wall to sit next to him. Putting him between the roar of the fire and myself. He opens one eye, and raises an eyebrow. I smile and put my back head onto the stone wall and gaze out into the swirling snowy night. 

“It would be warmer on the other side of the fire you know.” He says, to the point as always. Though I note his voice does not seem to have its normal edge. I scoot closer and shake my head no.

“I don’t believe so, Estinien. Not this time.” I reply, closing my eyes in the comfort of the fire and his presence, and slowly let sleep take me. I imagine, for what else could it be but my imagination, that I see a ghost of a smile upon his face as well. 

When I wake the sun has started, barely, to shine through the common rooms windows. The storm has passed, and a new day has dawned upon Eorzea. Blinking wakefulness to my eyes, I find myself far from the cold stone floor I had decided was to be my bed. Instead, I am wrapped in a blanket I know is not my own on the couch.

The fire is naught but cinders now. Making the warmth of the blanket all the more welcome. I yawn, and feel a small damp mark on my forehead as I do so. Estinien still sits on the floor, fast asleep near the embers, breathing slowly, and gently with the faintest hint of a smile on his face. I silently pray my snoring didn’t bother him too much. I’ve been told its not unlike the roar of an airship engine. 

Slowly, I make my way towards him again, silently swearing at myself. Fool I had been for decided to forsake shoes in the light of the fire, as the cold floor now told me. Though it would not steer me from my course, as I sit next to him once more and throw the blanket over the two of us.

Yes, I do believe that’s one childhood dream I’ve never gotten rid of. I believe I’d still like to run an Inn someday. 

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up at 4:30 with this idea and had to put it to paper - er internet.


End file.
